


The Glorious Return

by A_Big_Old_Skeleton



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Look this should have been the ultimate endgame and I'll hear no other excuses, No I don't know why I wrote this either, just let me have this okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:46:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Big_Old_Skeleton/pseuds/A_Big_Old_Skeleton
Summary: Jane's been on another coast for two years. Now she's coming back, and HELL'S COMING WITH HER YOU HEAR?Or maybe it's just some baggage that she and Daria have to unpack.





	The Glorious Return

Daria is not good with feelings. This is a law of the universe, written in stone: for Daria, the part where people learn to deal with their feelings never happened. For Daria, the awkwardness of high school stays, even if she happens to have managed to carve out a place in the world for herself. It turns out that being unable to deal with feelings can be spun into a career in comedy, and that pays the rent, buys food, and keeps her cat fed. She manages to convince herself that she is happy, or at a minimum satisfied, and unlike so many others she knows she's at least  _ made it,  _ whatever that means. Her mother has stopped making pointed inquiries about Men in Daria’s Life - after Quinn delivered her grandchild the urge to ensure her eldest ends up wifed is more or less gone. Daria, after all, seems perfectly happy as-is, and what more could a mother want? 

Perhaps, Helen thinks, it would be nice if Daria were a little better at dealing with feelings. She is observant enough to notice when her eldest is wrestling with something, after all, and while she's better at not meddling than she once was, old habits die hard. So obviously when Daria comes up on the weekend and seems more distracted than usual, Helen asks first if her daughter would like anything to drink, and then asks “Is something bothering you dear?” 

And obviously, because Daria is not good with feelings and would rather dodge the question, her response is “Nothing more than the usual existential dread. Pretty par for the course.” 

“You know Daria, after twenty years of practice, I've gotten pretty good at noticing when you're trying to dodge the question.”

“That doesn't make sense. I’ve had just as much practice dodging the question, so even if I were, which I’m not, you wouldn't notice.” 

Helen knows the value of a well-deployed “Hmm” and a knowing look against her daughter. The trick is to not be the one to speak first; one she's better at now than she was before. She takes a long, deliberate sip of coffee. 

Daria breaks first, much to her annoyance. “Jane's moving back to New York.” 

“Really? That's wonderful news! I know you were sad to see her go.” There's a pause and Helen senses she may have misspoke. “This  _ is  _ wonderful news, right?” 

“If I knew that, I really would just be bothered by the usual existential dread right now.” 

“Well what's bothering you about her return, dear?” 

Daria takes a moment to stare a hole in the tabletop. What  _ is  _ bothering her about this, anyway? It's not as if Jane's some long-lost friend. The two keep in touch via text or actual phone calls (a dying art). Hell she has a text from Jane on her phone from earlier this morning, featuring a stock photo of a model eating salad this morning with the caption “Found my new husband and we're running away together.” She is basically the same Jane Lane that Daria has known for years. Maybe that’s the problem? Maybe it’s that Daria has gotten used to Jane not being around, and the thought of her going back is causing some things to resurface that she’s spent two years getting over. Things like, just as a random example, how Daria had started to feel similar to Jane as she’d once upon a time felt about Trent. 

As soon as she became aware of this, it had made her time with Jane slightly less relaxed, as the whole time Daria was thinking about whether or not she should say something about it to Jane. That Jane has always possessed a flirtatious nature that has become increasingly common in their conversations is just one more thing to worry about, particularly as Daria’s flirting back has walked a dangerous line of becoming completely sincere. Daria considers herself good at denial, or at least burying those feelings deep down where they can’t cause trouble, but Jane back in town means that’s about to get a lot harder. 

It’s only when her mother speaks up to offer advice that Daria realizes she’s been saying some of this stuff out loud. “You know Daria, your friends are always going to be your friends, even if you’ve changed and they haven’t. You’ve met some of  _ my _ friends, and we couldn’t be more different now than we were then. But we’re still friends, even if they haven’t changed as much as we did.”

_ Okay _ , Daria thinks,  _ at least I didn’t vocalize the part where I think I’ve been in love with my best friend for years. _ Either way this is not a conversation she wants to have with her mother right now, so she offers up a thanks for the advice and changes the subject to a story about something dumb her cat did. 

Jane arrives in NYC along with a massive rainstorm that all but ensures Daria will offer to let her crash on her couch rather than haul a bunch of cardboard boxes through the rain to her new apartment. Jane accepts immediately with a look of relief on her face, and Daria cannot help the smile that comes from having pizza with her old friend just like old times. 

“Next time I decide that driving across the country in three days sounds like a good idea I want you to do the right thing and steal my car keys.” Jane says, groaning slightly as she tries to stretch her aching back out and Daria tries not to notice the way Jane’s clothes shift on her as she tries to stretch her aching back out.

She coughs and looks the other way, trying not to be obvious about it and (though she doesn’t know, and Jane doesn’t say) failing. “Nah, I'll probably just murder you. Make sure you aren't able to make that mistake again.” 

“There's that willingness to go above and beyond the call of duty that makes you such a dear friend, Daria. I knew I could count on you.” 

“You know what they say, ‘if you can't kill your friends, you're no friend at all.’” 

“They  _ do  _ say that, don't they?” 

“Yes, they certainly do.” There’s a brief silence as the two eat some more pizza, and then Daria decides to change topic. “So what exactly inspired you to leave the hellish sun and opportunity of the LA art scene?” Daria knows exactly why, of course. She follows Jane's art career, and Jane herself had mentioned feeling burned out on numerous occasions. 

“Oh, you know how it is. Once you make one or two giant installations criticizing our capitalist nightmare, everyone wants you to make a third one.”

“Wouldn’t bowing to market pressure be following capitalist ideals?” Daria takes a big bite of pizza. “Mmm, tastes like hypocrisy.”

“That’s what I told them! Then they offered me money.” Jane frowns. “I think they missed the point.”

Daria raises an eyebrow. “Who is this mysterious benefactor with no understanding of art?”

“A financial firm.” Jane shrugs.

“Of course.” Daria doesn’t  _ laugh _ , per se, but she does make a noise that someone who knows her well would recognize as a sound of amusement. 

“I should have taken the money. I don't know if you've heard, but rent in New York is a crime.” 

Daria sits up at this with a look of concern on her face. “If you're short on cash I'm sure I can-” 

“It was a joke, Daria.” Jane looks at her friend curiously. “You seem surprisingly concerned about my well-being. Are you sure you're the real Daria?” 

“You caught me. The real Daria is dead in a back alley gutter, just like she always knew she'd end up.” Daria replies. Part of her curses at allowing her concern to show so plainly. Jane is not exactly coming to New York covered in glory - she's got a residency at a gallery, yes, but it’s a general consensus in the Art Community that this is beneath the talents of Jane Lane and she’s only doing it because she’s damn near broke. Jane's never mentioned any financial stress to Daria, so by rights Daria shouldn't know. Not without admitting she's followed her friend closely and with no small amount of anxiety, anyway. 

“Well, at least you're an honest doppelganger.” Jane smiles and Daria's stomach does a little somersault thing that it hasn't done in years. Daria hates it and also wants Jane to make it happen again. “To tell you the truth, it's a bit of a relief.”

“Oh? I didn't realize you were so reluctant to see your best friend again.” Daria knows Jane's only joking, probably, but she can't help feeling the tiniest bit hurt. 

“Reluctant isn't the word I'd use, Miss Doppelgänger.” Jane says with an airiness that doesn't quite mask a look of nervousness that flits across her face. “It's more that I moved back under false pretenses and I wasn't sure how to broach the subject.” 

Daria resists the urge demand answers, immediately, and forces herself to continue this ridiculous roleplay. She'll be damned if she's the one who breaks character first. She places a reassuring hand on Jane’s shoulder and tries to ignore how  _ warm _ she is. “Come on then, tell your new doppelganger friend what's going on.”

“Well…” Jane draws out the word. “I didn't come back because of this gallery offer. Not because it was prestigious, anyway.”

Daria knows this already, but she pretends to be surprised. “No? I thought opportunity was the only thing that could bring you back from the sunny coast and legions of groupies.”

Jane lets out a dry laugh that makes Daria realize how much she’s missed Jane’s laugh. “Well I did leave a trail of broken hearts, but the groupies weren’t particularly compelling.” She pauses just long enough for Daria to roll her eyes before continuing. “The truth is, this was the only offer I’ve had recently. Turns out sticking to my principles didn’t win me any friends.”

“Who would’ve thought?” A memory springs unbidden to Daria’s mind. “It’s good to know things are still the same as they were back in high school.”

“Yeah, it turns out nothing’s changed. The only difference is that we’re not in your parent’s house this time, and if I didn’t make the move here I would probably have become one of those starving artist types you read about.”

“The review of your last show in LA was certainly a little bit on the catty side.” Daria says, not thinking and immediately regretting it.

“Was it? I haven’t been following my career that closely.” Jane’s reaction is to raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Have you been  _ stalking _ me, Miss Morgendorfer?”

For whatever reason, Daria finds herself echoing something her mother had once said. “You know, it’s the damndest thing. When you care about someone, you tend to keep tabs on them.” 

It takes a few seconds for her to realize she’s just given a sincere answer to a teasing comment, which means that 1. She’s now admitted to Jane that she cares about her, which, sure, she can play that off with an “as a friend” except 2. She really, really doesn’t want to just play it off with an “as a friend” because Daria is not good with feelings and she’d just as soon get this over with and move on to the part where Jane reacts badly and leaves her forever.

Except for a brief widening of the eyes in shock, Jane doesn’t react at all at first. Then she gets a grin on her face. “Oh, I’m  _ never _ going to let you live this down.”

“Live what down, exactly.” Daria says, in an effort to maintain some semblance of dignity.

“You  _ care _ about me? How much do you care about me, hmm?”

“Less and less by the second.” Daria says, crossing her arms in a huff. 

“Daria  _ cares _ about something, and it’s me!” Jane crows. “I’ve broken through that cynical exterior and found the gooey emotional center hidden within!”

“Yes, fine, laugh it up.” Daria says acidly. “See if I ever feed your ungrateful ass again.”

Jane, who is perhaps a little better with feelings than her friend, laughs. “I'm only teasing you Daria. It's not like I wasn't about to tell you that I mostly moved back here because I got sick of not having you with me.” This last line is delivered with such a tone of sincerity that Daria almost doesn't notice Jane's placed her hand on hers. “I figured what better way to deal with the problem than to drive back here and sweep you off your feet.”

Several thoughts rush through Daria's head at this, but all she can manage at first is a startled “Oh” and a slight blush that makes her feel even more awkward than usual. A few seconds pass before she blurts out a question that she really shouldn't ask. “So when you say ‘with me…?’”

“I mean,” Jane says and then coughs, embarrassed (when was the last time Jane had ever seemed embarrassed or unsure about  _ anything _ , Daria wonders), “that maybe you're my best friend and maybe that's great if that's what you want but  _ maybe _ I wouldn't mind if we were… more than that?” 

Daria processes this. “So when you say ‘more than that,’ do you mean-” 

Jane throws her hands up in exasperation. “Oh for god’s sake, Daria, I'm saying that I love you.” 

“Oh.” Surprisingly, Daria manages to hold it together pretty well. She reaches out slowly and touches Jane's face, an action which causes Jane to blush (Jane! Blushing! Because of Daria!) and lean a bit unconsciously into the contact like a cat. This gives Daria the encouragement she needs to continue. “Well in that case I should probably tell you I've been in love with you for years, huh?”

Jane's lips quirk up in a smile. “That's useful information to have.”

There's another beat of silence as the two stare at one another. Then Daria opens her mouth to say something else, closes it, opens it one more time to say “Fuck it,” pull Jane in, and kiss her, hard. 

It's exactly as good as she's always assumed it would be. Jane tastes like the pizza they've been eating and also something that is filed away in Daria's brain as ‘Jane flavor.’ After a few moments the two pull apart, breathing slightly heavier than before. Jane speaks first. 

“Is now a good time to add that I didn't actually find a place to live yet?” 

Daria smirks, and feels a rush of confidence for the second time that day. “Flawless timing as always, Miss Lane. It just so happens I have space for a lodger. We'll have to share the bed, though.” 

“I accept your terms.” Jane says, and the two embrace again until Daria's cat knocks the pizza box off the table. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written, like all great works of literature, mostly on my phone on the toilet at work. 
> 
> Why did I need to share that little fact with you? If I knew the answer to that we'd lead very different lives.


End file.
